


Why the Bad Guys Always Lose

by Asharia (Xocoatldreams)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: GFY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xocoatldreams/pseuds/Asharia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco learns why the bad guys always lose</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why the Bad Guys Always Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own. Really.

Draco glanced down at the tracks he was following, noticing how the falling snow was slowly obscuring them. Sighing softly he realized he would have to move faster to catch his prey. Shifting his pack he moved forward, the sound of his foot falls muffled by the thick blanket of snow. Tracking some creature through the forest definitely wasn't on his list of fun activities, but it was his assignment and he had swore that he wouldn't screw it up. Looking down at the disappearing prints, he groaned. He was so going to screw this up.

"Ah looky here, a lonely little wizard far from home," whispered a voice on the wind.

Draco stopped, tilting his head to listen for the direction of the voice. There was silence, but he could feel someone watching him, a sensation like burring ice down his spine. It was definitely a feeling he didn't like.

"Little wizard, I wonder if you taste as good as you look," came the voice again, this time from a different direction. A flash of movement accompanied it and Draco eased his wand into his hand.

"Why don't you come out and face me," he dared, taunting whoever was lurking in the dark of the trees.

"What fun would that be little wizard?" Another direction, and the fiery ice feeling seemed to intensify. "This way I get to taste your fear before I taste your blood."

"I must protest any tasting of my person, be it fear or blood, and I demand that you face me," Draco stopped for a moment, a smirk appearing on his face. "That is unless you are a coward."

"No, no, no little wizard. You will not goad me into rash actions. See I am more disciplined than that, I am in control here, not you."

"In control by hiding behind trees, lurking in the dark? I maybe a Slytherin, but even I know that's the mark of a spineless little pouf," he retorted.

A flash of movement caught the corner of Draco's eye. "Oh, I'm not hiding little wizard, I'm tenderizing my prey."

"Tenderizing?"

"Oh yes, getting your nice and riled up. Do you know how good anger and fear taste together? Like ambrosia. Delicious." There was more movement, sound now with the flashes of sight. "I can't wait to taste you. I think you'll be the best I've ever had."

"I'm flattered, truly I am," Draco drawled sarcastically. "But I'm no easy prey and I won't give up without a fight."

A large shaped rushed out of the dark, tackling the slender man to the ground. White teeth flashed, snapping inches from Draco's face. "But you won't have the chance to fight, will you?"

Draco reached for his wand that had fallen from his grasp, but the length of wood lay out of his reach. He glared at his attacker when his hand was caught in a tight grasp and pressed to the ground by his head.

"That's the problem with you wizards, you think that you can fight us," the man holding him down stated. "We are eternal, part of nature. We are natural. Predators and you are our prey."

Those startlingly white teeth descended on his throat as the hands holding his sprouted thick sharp claws. Letting his eyes close, Draco prepared himself for his death. He had never envisioned dying like this, held down helpless in the snow. Dying to him always seemed to be a vision of a curse on the battle field or an old man in bed.

Suddenly his attacker slumped, pressing the breath out of his body. Opening his eyes, Draco found himself staring into the lifeless eyes of his attacker. Shifting, he managed to heave the weight off his chest of he could breathe once again.

"You know, that's the problem with bad guys," the tall man entering the clearing began. "They spend so much time talking that they forget to check for any other enemies."

Draco watched at the newcomer calmly walked up and toed the dead body. "Werewolf?"

"Yes," Draco answered.

"Hmm." The man knelt down and removed on of the knives secreted about his body and plunged it into the shape shifter's heart. "Dead for sure now."

"Harry?" questioned the still downed man. "Why did you do that?"

"The mistake most of the good guys make, is not making sure the bad guy is dead." Draco looked up at him confused. "Silver knife."

"Ah. Are you going to help me up?"

Harry pulled the other man up before bending down to retrieve his knife. Turning back to Draco, he carefully looked over the smaller man, checking for injuries. "That's why your father got caught, you know?"

"Huh?" The statement seemed to come out of no where.

"He talked too much. Too busy boasting all the time." Harry explained.

"Yes I know. Mother and I were always trying to break him of that habit," the blonde laughed. "Come on, we still have a war to win."  
"Make sure the bad guys are dead?" Harry asked.

"And keep our mouths shut."


End file.
